


Stupid

by pompom_chan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:25:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pompom_chan/pseuds/pompom_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky never really cared for Valentine's Day. He only cares about Steve. (But Bucky is an idiot who doesn't realize what he's saying.)<br/>Steve never really cared about romantic things. He only knows that he'll never love someone the way he loves Bucky. (But Steve is an idiot who keeps his feelings for himself.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> So... This is the first time I write a Stucky fic _and_ this is the first time I write a fic in english so forgive me if it's not perfect (I know it's not, but whatever). Hope they're not too OOC though. And that it's not too rushed (I always feel like I rush things...) o.o  
>  Happy Valentine's Day everyone, may the fluff be with you !

**Tuesday, February 14th, 1928  
(Steve: 9, Bucky: 10)**

That's stupid. _So stupid_ , Steve though as he was waiting just outside the school gate, hands fiddling with the craft envelope he was holding. He had rushed through the hallways the moment the class was over, bumping into at least four other kids, and was now searching for a familiar face in the crowd.

He knew Bucky's teacher was always a few minutes late. Still, he couldn't tell if his heart was racing too fast because he was impatient or because his asthma didn't agree with him running his way out through the entire school.

He was still waiting on the sidewalk, blond hair messed up and coat sliding off his frail shoulders, when his friend finally came out. And the only thing Steve could see was Bucky's unruly brown locks sticking out from the crowd before he was surrounded by little girls with their neat braids and pink ribbons and their hands full of heartshaped cards and presents.

"Will you stay and play with us tomorrow, James ?", pleaded a cheery, high-pitched voice.

"Do you think you can come to the park with me someday ?", asked another.

"James, be my Valentine !"

And then the stupid idea Steve had had in mind the whole week seemed even stupider. _You shouldn't do that. Boys don't do things like that._ He was about to give up and go home without his best friend when said best friend finally escaped his little fan club and appeared next to him, grinning and nonchalant as always.

"Hey Stevie ! Ready to go ?" He asked as he stood right in front of Steve, looking down on him since he was a good four inches taller - even though never in his life Steve felt like Bucky was looking _down_ on him.

Steve blinked a few times as he saw the unbelievably huge amount of gifts that Bucky was starting to put in his backpack. Chocolates and cookies and tickets for Coney Island and tickets for the cinema and some more chocolates. Bucky's eyes followed Steve's gaze and only then he noticed the envelope in his blond friend's hands. He smiled.

"Girls really care too much about this Valentine's nonsense, dontcha think ?" Bucky laughed softly. "Look at all those silly gifts !" He shook his head slightly as he put the last few cards in his bag.

Apparently, he was too busy putting away "those silly gifts" to hear the sound of Steve's little heart breaking into pieces.

"Yeah, girls are really stupid," Steve murmured as he opened his own bag to throw the stupid envelope in it. It was really hard for him not to look extremely angry with himself right now.

He still smiled the brightest smile he could. "Let's go ?" he asked. Bucky nodded and put his bag back on his shoulder.

Steve quickly started walking, but a hand grabbed his arm before he could get too far. He opened his mouth, trying to say something to protest but Bucky was already taking off his scarf and wrapping it tightly around Steve's neck.

"You're too careless Stevie, don't want you to catch a cold again," he explained with half a smile.

And without another word, Bucky slapped a hand on Steve's back and they started to make their way home, Steve hiding his nose in the warmth of Bucky's navy blue scarf and trying to ignore the numb ache in his already malfunctioning chest.

Ever since that day, Steve carried this inexplicable hatred for heartshaped chocolates.

  
* * * * * * *

**Sunday, February 14th, 1937  
(Steve: 18, Bucky: 19)**

_"…and will Charles finally confess his love to Margaret ? Stay with us to find out, we'll be back in five minutes !"_

Steve snorted at the radio, or at least attempted to but ended up coughing again, just like he'd been doing the entire day. He had been sick since the beginning of the week. It'd looked like a simple cold at first - even though Bucky had still rushed to his side the first time he heard Steve sneeze, a warm jacket in one hand and a tissue in the other, before running through the entire apartment to see if he could fix the broken windows.

He had started to feel the way too familiar sensation of itch and burn in his lungs on wednesday. And on thursday, fever had finally showed up and he'd been unable to leave his bed ever since - well, that was not entirely true, he was actually moving from his bed to the couch every few hours - despite all of his desperate attempts of _Come on, Buck, I'm fine, I can go back to work_ , to which Bucky didn't even answer anymore.

In a way, Steve didn't look very convincing. His skin was livid and sweaty, his eyes injected with blood and his breathing so loud he was pretty sure it could be heard through the walls. He would probably pass out before he could go down the stairs of their building. But he still felt bad about ditching work for so long – again.

He didn't make so much money - Bucky's salary helped them much more than his -, he was just doing some daily illustrations for an independent newspaper in the Queens. But it was his job and he didn't want to rely on Bucky like this. Some days - especially when he was sick and had nothing better to do - Steve wondered what he possibly could have done to deserve such a weak body.

When his coughing fit finally calmed down, he noticed that Bucky had looked up from his crossword and was now staring at him with worried grey-blue eyes. Steve simply shrugged in response, his shoulder brushing against Bucky's as they were sitting right next to each other on the couch.

It had become customary for them to settle like this. Steve was wrapped up in the thickest blanket they had, his legs folded against his chest, arms encircling them. His chin was resting on his knee and he had this annoying strand falling in front of his eye but didn't want to get his hand out from under the cover to put it away.

Bucky was sitting on his right, barely a couple of inches away. His crosswords book was sitting on his crossed legs, his right hand randomly playing with his pen and his left arm loosely laid on the back of the couch, right behind Steve's neck.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, let's return to our Valentine's special episode !"_

_"Oh Charles, I wish I had told you sooner. I've loved you from the very first day, ever since we were kids. Remember when you protected me from those bullies ? I was just a little girl but you were already my hero."_

Steve rolled his eyes. Seriously, were there really actual people who could listen to this and _enjoy_ it ? But Steve didn't have the strength to get up and switch to another station, and Bucky actually liked making fun of this dumb broadcast. The dialogues were always so cheesy it made him laugh. And Steve liked Bucky's laugh, a lot, so in the end he didn't really mind.

The woman kept babbling on and on about her burning love for this stupid Charles and at some point, their fictional story kind of reminded Steve of his and Bucky's. 

She'd met him at school, they weren't even ten, and he had protected her from some older kids who wanted her lunch money. They'd been inseparable ever since. He took care of her when her parents died tragically, leaving her with nothing at all. And now she was in love with him. 

Yeah. Basically Steve and Bucky's story. 

Except for the fact that Steve wasn't screaming his love for his heterosexual masculine best friend from the rooftops. And he probably never would, because boys didn't do this kind of things, and even if he did... Well, Bucky liked girls. A lot. Steve was actually surprised that he was here in the apartment, making sassy comments about Charles and Margaret at every line they said, and not outside, enjoying a date with a gorgeous lady _on Valentine's day._

Steve sighed. His story would never end the way they did on those stupid overly-dramatic romance broadcasts. Unless the so-called Margaret was to spend the rest of her days away from her precious Charles as he married someone better and... 

_"Maggy, will you marry me ?"_

Of course not. It had to end up well for her, she was a beautiful, healthy girl in an American piece of fiction. 

Next to him, Bucky burst out laughing and Steve saw him tossing his crossword aside, sliding to the floor to end up kneeling right in front on Steve. And then, with a hand on his heart and a dramatically exaggerated expression on his face, he held out his pen in front of his friend. 

"Stevie, will you marry me ?" he declaimed, and his voice was so heavily filled with derision and irony that it made Steve's chest tighten painfully and he ended up coughing again. 

Bucky's smile faded away and he frowned. 

"Calm down pal, I'm just kidding y'know ?" 

Steve shook his head, assuring him that he was - relatively - fine, and Bucky crawled back on the couch next to him, furrowed brows and worried features not leaving his face. Steve was used to see Bucky ridicule this kind of characters. But usually, characters didn't propose to each others, they simply had extremely girlish lines that Bucky liked to make fun of. And it wasn't particularly pleasant to see how funny it was for Bucky to think about proposing to Steve. 

This had to stop, he thought. He couldn't spend his entire living with his best friends who he was secretly in love with. At some point, Bucky would get married, he'd have children, and Steve would remain the little guy he could make ambiguous jokes with. 

Steve wondered all the time - really, all the time - why Bucky was still taking care of him so much. Bucky was a good man, sure, he was the best man Steve ever met. But it almost felt like Steve was the only thing he really cared about, and Steve didn't want to get in his way like this. Bucky deserved better than a pathetic, sickly best friend who'd recklessly get beaten up every other week. 

His eyes were fixated on a random point in front of him as Steve realized that the ridiculous "Charles and Margaret show" was over, thank God. It had been replaced by a lovely song by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and he was glad to have some music to distract him now. Living with Bucky was emotionally exhausting, and Bucky didn't even realize it. 

Yet, Steve didn't know what he'd do if his best friend wasn't here. His presence was radiating warmth and comfort. He was one of the rare people who could make him laugh. Life without Bucky was practically meaningless. 

"You okay Stevie ?" Bucky softly asked. 

Steve raised his head a bit too abruptly, pain striking through his temples. 

"Huh ?" He blinked to try and chase away the headache. "Yeah, sure, just thinking." 

Bucky was staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, his gaze so deep that Steve felt his cheeks heat up - it could just be the fever though. 

Steve looked away, tightening the blanket around his shoulders, about to lay his head on his knees again and try to rest, when Bucky's large hand approach his face and he hooked a finger under his chin, gently guiding him to meet his eyes. He was so impossibly close Steve felt a shiver running through his entire body - but again, it could just be the fever. 

He didn't realize what was happening until he felt the light pressure of Bucky's lips against his own, and he feared he'd pass out right there. But Bucky's hand moved to the back of his neck and held him firmly, lending him his strength - because in the end, that's what Bucky did best. 

It was a chaste, almost innocent kiss, and Steve barely had the time to respond that Bucky pulled away, only to rest his forehead against Steve's feverish one. 

"What was that for ?" Steve whispered, his lower lip still trembling with emotion. 

Bucky smiled - but it wasn't one of his mocking, half smiles, nor the charming smile he put up in front of the ladies ; it was small, almost timid, and Steve thought he never saw anything more beautiful than this. 

"It's Valentine's day," the brunette simply answered. 

Steve frowned. "Yeah. You hate Valentine's day, Buck." 

Bucky shrugged and blinked at him playfully. "I just think girls care too much about those useless romantic fantasies. I don't really mind the concept of spending the day with a loved one though." 

It took quite some time for Steve to process the meaning of this last sentence. Bucky only sighed in contentment and closed his eyes, his forehead still pressed against Steve's. 

Steve didn't know if he should be shocked or simply happy. Bucky was his best friend since... Ever. 

"How long have you...," he started, but Bucky cut him short, lightheartedly pecking his cheek before sitting back to his former position. 

"Happy Valentine's day, punk." 

Steve smiled and sit back as well, only this time he let his head rest on Bucky's steady shoulder. He never felt happier. 

"Yeah, you too jerk." 

  
* * * * * * *

**Sunday, February 14th, 2016  
(Steve: 97, Bucky: 98)**

It was the middle of the night and Steve had been rolling over on his bed for hours. Sleep was avoiding him, and he was now trying to contain his frustration by staring angrily at the ceiling. He let out a long sigh and turned his head towards his bedside table. 

03:47. Well. Steve sighed again and threw the sheets aside. There was no point in staying in bed any longer. 

Lazily, he sat on the side of the mattress and stretched his arms over his head, still a bit surprised by how strong his muscles had gotten - he'd probably never get used to it completely. He stood up and headed outside his bedroom, walking through the hallway and towards the kitchen. 

He was not particulary surprised to see that Bucky was awake as well. It's only been a couple of months since he moved in here, but Steve knew that nightmares and insomnia were an integral part of his everyday life. That's why he said nothing when he heard him screaming at night, or when he woke up in the morning to see that Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch, an empty bottle - sometimes more than one - on the floor. 

He said nothing when Bucky sneaked into his bedroom, on the very, very bad nights, and slipped under the covers with him, just to put a hand on Steve's back and make sure he was really here. 

And he said nothing either when he saw Bucky sitting in front of the kitchen window, his metal hand holding a steaming cup of tea, eyes wandering over the buildings outside. Steve simply walked past him, stopping by his side half a second to put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it lightly, before moving to the kitchen cupboards to make some coffee. 

For a while, the only things that were to be heard were the sounds of stainless steel and ceramic. Until Bucky's husky voice broke the silence completely. 

"I don't know how to consider you," he said. 

Steve looked up from the coffee machine. Bucky wasn't looking at him, he could only see his profile. Steve sighed. They never truly had this conversation, but he knew it was weird indeed. Their relationship was already weird back in the days when everything was - more or less - normal. Now, it was even weirder. He knew Bucky remembered things, probably messed up things, out of context. And the way they'd gotten closer in just a few months was all the more confusing. He never knew what to do to help him, and he hated himself for that. 

He was about to answer something when Bucky spoke again. 

"We were together before," he hesitated. "Weren't we ?" 

It was unusual for Bucky - the new Bucky at least - to ask this kind of things. Most of the time, he simply asked questions about where they lived, what kind of job he had, what type of music he liked. He rarely asked things about Steve himself - and Steve suspected that it was because he already remembered most of it. 

Steve took his cup of coffee and moved by the window to sit in front of his friend. 

"Yeah, I guess we can say that," he vaguely answered. 

They weren't together _together_ , it wasn't even allowed at that time. But unofficially, yeah, they were together. 

"I remember loving you." 

Steve looked up from his cup and realized that Bucky was truly staring at him now. His eyes seemed paler than in the past. Not necessarily colder though. He bit his lip to try to ignore the pain that had woken up his chest at Bucky's words. 

"I just can't see how you could have loved me back" 

How long had he been thinking about these things ? Steve closed his eyes and got up again, Bucky's gaze following his movements curiously. He left his cup on the counter on his way to his bedroom, and went for something he hadn't seen in a very long time. Once he'd found it a few minutes later, he went back to the kitchen. 

Bucky hadn't moved an inch. He was observing him cautiously, dark and messy bangs framing his face. Steve got back to his place and handed him a crumpled envelope. Bucky frowned and took it with his flesh hand, carefully, almost as if it scared him. He put his cup of tea on the floor next to him and focused on the envelope, delicately unsealing it. He glanced up at Steve for a second, hesitant, and Steve simply nodded. 

"It's kinda old so, y'know..." Steve muttered as he began to feel embarassed. 

But Bucky wasn't listening. He was staring at the piece of paper in his hands, holding it like a treasure. 

"It's...," he started. 

"It's us, when we were kids, it's not very realistic I know but that's the best I could do at that time, and-" 

"Shut up," Bucky interrupted, but he didn't sound harsh at all. 

On the paper was a charcoal drawing of them - young versions of them - running hand-in-hand, the first time they went to Coney Island. Bucky was holding a little dinosaur plush Steve had won when they played that game with rings and sticks - because even if Steve wasn't strong, he always aimed perfectly. On the bottom of the page was written _Happy Valentine's Day, Buck !_ in Steve's childish handwriting. 

"Why did you never give this to me ?" Bucky asked after a while, eyes still fixated on the drawing. 

"Because I felt ridiculous and I thought that only girls did this kind of things and I didn't want to freak you out...." Steve murmured. 

"You're stupid," Bucky said, but when Steve looked up to him, he saw the tiniest smile reaching his best friend's lips, and it made his heart clench like so many times before. And once again, he though that nothing could possibly be more beautiful than this. 

**Author's Note:**

> (For the last part, let's just say that the CW trailer doesn't exist -OMG I can't even imagine that but let's pretend- so it's set Post-WS and Steve has found Bucky and long story short they live together because Bucky has nowhere else to go. And everyone is happy and no one is hurt, alright ? :D)  
> (Same for the second part, technically I don't know when exactly did Steve parents die so... :$)


End file.
